So here we are, the end of summer. For me, and I imagine for many other whiney children, August's final days are upon us, which means school is around the corner. So there -- even though our calendars make us check off the equinox in a few weeks, the end of summer is...well, tomorrow.
I shouldn't have said whiney. Whiney is what I was during the last couple weeks available to me in order to cram in all that summer reading I danced around with procrastination as a swing partner. Whiney is the way I felt when I first got to college and was unsure if I should be feeling as close to my Syracuse friends after two semesters, as I did to high school companions I had known for over 10 years. The whine, this time, is just the nerves building up to Wednesday's first graduate class.
I think you know what I'm talking about when I say nerves; I mean one of two kinds of nerves: the hole in your stomach that swallows a symbolic peach pit each time your conscious drifts by the thought of doing something you're afraid of. Or it's the kind of flutter-butterfly that flickers a mix of hope, happiness, and excitement amidst your white and red blood cells, swimming vibrantly in your veins. School's always been a combination, dependent on so many other factors, and this time around it's a banter in my brain such things like my ability, my time away from school, my belief in what I chose to pursue, my faith in the program I selected, and the other extracirriculars that are my life, and soon to be a newlywed life. Shouldn't I spoil that man I'm about to marry with nothing than myself working along his schedule so that our time together is even more special because we can actually do things, together?
No, I know this is the right choice. The right discipline. The right time for me. I put forth a little of my patience and timeliness in "angels" (whomever they be) that encompass me, but I more importantly took the measures I needed to involve myself academically at this juncture in my life. I went out and bought my little notebooks, tried to salvage the right kind of "used" book from Amazon to make my textbook purchasing worthwhile...perhaps setting aside my "first-day outfit" on my dresser is in order! (Not too much for a graduate, I don't believe.) Whatever nerves hit me Wednesday, my first fall day, they'll be carried with me and my belongings, as I meander around my new campus, only to be greeted with a kind, intelligent professor I'm sure. From the third grade to my first post-undergraduate term, I'll enter this fall like any other:
I'll clutch my books a little tight, scan the room for possible workmates and friends, and diligently shorthand the lecture notes with a clear and probably impossible intent to keep them organized the same way throughout the semester. I'll shoot for the A, and I'll be happy with what I get only when I know it's what I earned. I'll aim to be a student again, and this time not just of the college experience, but of a deserving life-changing career, possibilities open to what I take in and what I give back to myself.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Merv
"Did I tell you the one about the guy who only ever ordered matzah-ball soup?" I overheard this joke at the pool this morning. A lovely accomodation in our apartment complex, that come to find out, is seldom used -- even if it is a Tuesday. Myself, one lifeguard, a mom with her 4 or 5 year old, and two elderly folk -- one, an accomplished swimmer; the other, an accomplished schmoozer. I selected my chair, aligned it with the mid-morning sun and its path, and got down and sweaty for the first twenty minutes. I hadn't been to the pool since....mid July? Is that right? (I told you it was seldom used.) Our weather has been steadily 90+ degrees, but I suppose I didn't find the pool all that attractive even with the stickiness, and I hate to propose that I would have any actual fashion-forward thinking, but this year a bikini was a must regarding my wedding dress silhouette. I was not too eager to be melting all summer while not being able to assure my suit wouldn't melt off too, since straps have been untied! I digress....
One flip of the body over, and I was listening to one man's entrance into the pool deck as clearly as he had wanted to make it. "Afternoon, all!" The mom and her little girl replying, "Hi, Merv. How are you?" "Just fine, thank you!," he exclaimed. Sounded like from afar he got himself settled, and let out a big sigh of relief and relaxation. The older woman swimming laps in the pool continued to stride, and yet she ended up pausing by Merv's end of the pool to say hello. I'm sure they had been in talks before, and he opened their conversation with that line above. "No, Merv. I haven't heard that one yet," she says smiling.
"So this man, a real old-timer, has been going to this hoity-toity New York City restaurant nearly every day of his life for lunch, to order his favorite matzah-ball soup. He walks in one day, having ordered the very same soup dozens, probably hundreds of times. The waiter brings his soup over, puts the plate down, and recites: 'Enjoy your lunch today, Mr. Max.'
"'Why, waiter! I cannot enjoy this soup today!'
'Whatever do you mean, Mr. Max?'
'Waiter, I simply cannot eat this matzah-ball soup today.'
'Mr. Max, I assure you it is matzah-ball soup. I even tasted a little of it this morning myself!'
'Waiter, I can't eat this soup,' says the man.
'Mr. Max, Sir, we've had the same chef creating this recipe of matzah-ball soup ever since the first day that you ordered it. Please! Why can't you eat this soup today?'
'Simply, waiter -- there's no spoon!'"
"That's great, Merv -- I hadn't heard it!" said the swimmer. Merv just smiled, and began to wade himself into the cool water. "How many laps have you done today, Linda?" "I just finished my mile, I think I'll take a break. But I won't forget that joke Merv. It's the way you tell 'em that keep 'em funny."
I myself had been listening in, and was trying hard not to snicker too loudly so that Merv would know he had more of an audience -- though he probably wouldn't have minded. I peeked at the woman stepping out of the water, impressed to hear she had already lapped a mile in our little Meadowbrook pool, and looked as cool as a cucumber. Merv asks the lifeguard, "How many laps in this pool to swim a mile?" "Sixty, I think." "Linda, you swam sixty laps and it's barely lunchtime?!" She smiled and started to skim a magazine she had brought with her. Merv, as you may have assumed, kept on conversing with our young lifeguard, no doubt working this job as a summer interim from school (though secondary or collegiate, I'm not sure). Then to my surprise, Merv heard my thoughts and found out for me:
"So, heading back to school in the fall there?"
"Yes, sir. Philadelphia University."
"What year are you, son?"
"Sort of a junior-senior mix, I have to figure out all my credits and courses and stuff."
"What's your major going to be?"
"I want to do Phys Ed, or maybe teach middle school."
"That's fabulous, son. Good luck."
"Thanks, Merv."
"Just remember one thing as you finish up your schooling, all right?"
"What's that?" the lifeguard asked.
"Do what you love, and love what you do. Because school will help you get the job, but make sure it's a job you really enjoy so that you can retire early like me!"
"Oh yeah? When did you retire, Merv?"
"I'm going on my 20th year of no work, and I'm just 78!"
"You did retire, early, Merv. Did you get a good serverance package or something? What was your trick?"
"No, son. Truly when you find out what you're good at, and then you find out it's also what you love to do, you'll make the most out of whatever it is. I was able to work hard, pay off my house and raise my family because I had a job I loved, and loved doing it. There is no secret! Just wish you the best of luck."
"Thank you, Merv, I'll take it."
As you might have guessed, this made me smile. It made me snicker more, too, because I just cherish these hidden moments in daily life, even more so when overhearing the dialogue among men separated by a stretch of generations. And, it's probably no surprise that I felt this conversation was intended for everyone there at the pool. I hadn't been down to sun bathe in over a month, and there was this gem of a man exploiting only lighthearted nature, and simple wisdoms that remain true over time. I found it to be quite meaningful for my life, and was happy to have encountered Merv today. Hopefully we can all end up like him. Healthy, happy, hardworking, and always ready to find a little good in the people around us to make connections strengthened by shared experiences and good humor.
One flip of the body over, and I was listening to one man's entrance into the pool deck as clearly as he had wanted to make it. "Afternoon, all!" The mom and her little girl replying, "Hi, Merv. How are you?" "Just fine, thank you!," he exclaimed. Sounded like from afar he got himself settled, and let out a big sigh of relief and relaxation. The older woman swimming laps in the pool continued to stride, and yet she ended up pausing by Merv's end of the pool to say hello. I'm sure they had been in talks before, and he opened their conversation with that line above. "No, Merv. I haven't heard that one yet," she says smiling.
"So this man, a real old-timer, has been going to this hoity-toity New York City restaurant nearly every day of his life for lunch, to order his favorite matzah-ball soup. He walks in one day, having ordered the very same soup dozens, probably hundreds of times. The waiter brings his soup over, puts the plate down, and recites: 'Enjoy your lunch today, Mr. Max.'
"'Why, waiter! I cannot enjoy this soup today!'
'Whatever do you mean, Mr. Max?'
'Waiter, I simply cannot eat this matzah-ball soup today.'
'Mr. Max, I assure you it is matzah-ball soup. I even tasted a little of it this morning myself!'
'Waiter, I can't eat this soup,' says the man.
'Mr. Max, Sir, we've had the same chef creating this recipe of matzah-ball soup ever since the first day that you ordered it. Please! Why can't you eat this soup today?'
'Simply, waiter -- there's no spoon!'"
"That's great, Merv -- I hadn't heard it!" said the swimmer. Merv just smiled, and began to wade himself into the cool water. "How many laps have you done today, Linda?" "I just finished my mile, I think I'll take a break. But I won't forget that joke Merv. It's the way you tell 'em that keep 'em funny."
I myself had been listening in, and was trying hard not to snicker too loudly so that Merv would know he had more of an audience -- though he probably wouldn't have minded. I peeked at the woman stepping out of the water, impressed to hear she had already lapped a mile in our little Meadowbrook pool, and looked as cool as a cucumber. Merv asks the lifeguard, "How many laps in this pool to swim a mile?" "Sixty, I think." "Linda, you swam sixty laps and it's barely lunchtime?!" She smiled and started to skim a magazine she had brought with her. Merv, as you may have assumed, kept on conversing with our young lifeguard, no doubt working this job as a summer interim from school (though secondary or collegiate, I'm not sure). Then to my surprise, Merv heard my thoughts and found out for me:
"So, heading back to school in the fall there?"
"Yes, sir. Philadelphia University."
"What year are you, son?"
"Sort of a junior-senior mix, I have to figure out all my credits and courses and stuff."
"What's your major going to be?"
"I want to do Phys Ed, or maybe teach middle school."
"That's fabulous, son. Good luck."
"Thanks, Merv."
"Just remember one thing as you finish up your schooling, all right?"
"What's that?" the lifeguard asked.
"Do what you love, and love what you do. Because school will help you get the job, but make sure it's a job you really enjoy so that you can retire early like me!"
"Oh yeah? When did you retire, Merv?"
"I'm going on my 20th year of no work, and I'm just 78!"
"You did retire, early, Merv. Did you get a good serverance package or something? What was your trick?"
"No, son. Truly when you find out what you're good at, and then you find out it's also what you love to do, you'll make the most out of whatever it is. I was able to work hard, pay off my house and raise my family because I had a job I loved, and loved doing it. There is no secret! Just wish you the best of luck."
"Thank you, Merv, I'll take it."
As you might have guessed, this made me smile. It made me snicker more, too, because I just cherish these hidden moments in daily life, even more so when overhearing the dialogue among men separated by a stretch of generations. And, it's probably no surprise that I felt this conversation was intended for everyone there at the pool. I hadn't been down to sun bathe in over a month, and there was this gem of a man exploiting only lighthearted nature, and simple wisdoms that remain true over time. I found it to be quite meaningful for my life, and was happy to have encountered Merv today. Hopefully we can all end up like him. Healthy, happy, hardworking, and always ready to find a little good in the people around us to make connections strengthened by shared experiences and good humor.
Friday, August 13, 2010
one step forward, and two steps back.
Steps.
Step one. Step two. Back one. Step three. There's a certain instructional rhythm when you prioritize the goings-on in your life, but there's also a real meditative quality to it. Step four. Back two. Step five. Its that rhythm that can make you believe, these steps are worth taking. Step six, step seven....
Steps are all about babying yourself, really. Well, I should speak only for me. I feel like steps are a way to manage the things in my life that are too scary to leap for. In certain aspects I can make the jump. Family, love, friends. Maybe because those components are so enriched in my every day -- I've always got someone on my mind, either in relation to where I'm going and/or how they've helped me get there. I don't believe I can take claim to much in my life without acknowledging someone(s) assisted me along the way. Steps are the "micro-moments" that can numb us for a while when they become routine. Like when you're driving along a highway in the misty rain, and suddenly don't remember exactly driving the whole way? Steps can get lost, just as dreams can. And steps can be loud, just as dreams will be. Its just I can't forget that if you dream it, it can be true, but it doesn't mean that it will be true for you.
A man once loved by and married to Elizabeth Gilbert (the 'Eat Pray Love' phenomena) was divorced in part to his dreams awry, and also his lack of steps that brought him to fulfill any of them. At times, most recently in fact, I have felt like that person. That individual that speaks effortless philosophies about her life so open and free, time off feeling only empowering and that there are too many dreams to select which one should be achieved first. I realized tonight, that there are dreams meant to come to fruition, and others meant always to remain unattainable. That's why we dream. We are never meant to stand still and be complete with where we're at. It's true that you can find oneness, and set still your mind because of a great balance in your life. But I think what resonates most with me now, is understanding that humanity is not an entity intended for concrete boundaries. There are those who say "rules were made so that rules can be broken." Dreams, and steps are among the same. I think we are meant to strive for something more, something greater. And something as simple yet as challenging as finding work (for instance) is a boundary I find gets further from me with the more time I have off. And it's not always because the work isn't present. Granted the times are not perfect for choosing to quit your job right now, but the distance between me and the next gig also increases because I have this ability to choose and be picky. I am sidestepping my life so that what greets me down the road aligns with the balance I seek. School, marriage, family -- all of these things are important and dependent on what my job will be, so why wouldn't I take such finicky steps to make an assured leap of faith into a new position?
A lot of the time off has been "time on." I wheel myself back into this drone of job searching because it is the goal of my sabbatical, and still I want to believe that not all steps need to take me forward. Two months in, I have been able to put steps towards "the job" on hold to dance into other aspects of my life lost during my last role: reading, walking, yoga...even lovemaking. It's an amazing energy that gets absorbed in that M-F pattern, and I don't want to step aside any more of my hobbies, interests, or instincts. School starts at the end of the month, and so there is some sort of light ahead. As long as I do continue forward, despite the tangents along the path, I shall embark onto something wonderful, find the passion, and greet one of my dreams with a vigorous certainty that I took the right step.
Step one. Step two. Back one. Step three. There's a certain instructional rhythm when you prioritize the goings-on in your life, but there's also a real meditative quality to it. Step four. Back two. Step five. Its that rhythm that can make you believe, these steps are worth taking. Step six, step seven....
Steps are all about babying yourself, really. Well, I should speak only for me. I feel like steps are a way to manage the things in my life that are too scary to leap for. In certain aspects I can make the jump. Family, love, friends. Maybe because those components are so enriched in my every day -- I've always got someone on my mind, either in relation to where I'm going and/or how they've helped me get there. I don't believe I can take claim to much in my life without acknowledging someone(s) assisted me along the way. Steps are the "micro-moments" that can numb us for a while when they become routine. Like when you're driving along a highway in the misty rain, and suddenly don't remember exactly driving the whole way? Steps can get lost, just as dreams can. And steps can be loud, just as dreams will be. Its just I can't forget that if you dream it, it can be true, but it doesn't mean that it will be true for you.
A man once loved by and married to Elizabeth Gilbert (the 'Eat Pray Love' phenomena) was divorced in part to his dreams awry, and also his lack of steps that brought him to fulfill any of them. At times, most recently in fact, I have felt like that person. That individual that speaks effortless philosophies about her life so open and free, time off feeling only empowering and that there are too many dreams to select which one should be achieved first. I realized tonight, that there are dreams meant to come to fruition, and others meant always to remain unattainable. That's why we dream. We are never meant to stand still and be complete with where we're at. It's true that you can find oneness, and set still your mind because of a great balance in your life. But I think what resonates most with me now, is understanding that humanity is not an entity intended for concrete boundaries. There are those who say "rules were made so that rules can be broken." Dreams, and steps are among the same. I think we are meant to strive for something more, something greater. And something as simple yet as challenging as finding work (for instance) is a boundary I find gets further from me with the more time I have off. And it's not always because the work isn't present. Granted the times are not perfect for choosing to quit your job right now, but the distance between me and the next gig also increases because I have this ability to choose and be picky. I am sidestepping my life so that what greets me down the road aligns with the balance I seek. School, marriage, family -- all of these things are important and dependent on what my job will be, so why wouldn't I take such finicky steps to make an assured leap of faith into a new position?
A lot of the time off has been "time on." I wheel myself back into this drone of job searching because it is the goal of my sabbatical, and still I want to believe that not all steps need to take me forward. Two months in, I have been able to put steps towards "the job" on hold to dance into other aspects of my life lost during my last role: reading, walking, yoga...even lovemaking. It's an amazing energy that gets absorbed in that M-F pattern, and I don't want to step aside any more of my hobbies, interests, or instincts. School starts at the end of the month, and so there is some sort of light ahead. As long as I do continue forward, despite the tangents along the path, I shall embark onto something wonderful, find the passion, and greet one of my dreams with a vigorous certainty that I took the right step.
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